My Beautiful Dream
by my-last-username-was-immature
Summary: Percy Jackson gave up the girl he loved to save her life. Nico di Angelo lost Will Solace because he couldn't give up his hero. And maybe, just maybe, they'll be able to turn this fragile, beautiful dream that's starting between them into a reality. Percico, Boy-Boy Slash, MY OTP FOREVER! Cover art belongs to Viria. Rated T for mild cursing.
1. Chapter 1: Percy

_Thalia's pine tree throws gentle shadows over the morning, and the air is cool, the sun not quite up yet. Annabeth radiates warmth, though, her hands pressed against my back, her cheek resting on my shoulder. She stares up at me with those brilliant gray eyes, sparkling with flecks of diamond, and grins. "Seaweed Brain," she mutters affectionately. "You worry too much. I'm just flying out to California. I'll be back before you know it." I sigh and nod, leaning in for one last kiss. She obliges, and for a moment I can swear I hear violins playing sweetly around us. Then they turn into the furious honking of a taxi, and Annabeth pulls away regretfully, her hand closing around the metallic handle of her battered plaid suitcase. "See you soon," she chirps, and heads off down the hill. I watch her until the vivid-yellow taxi pulls out of sight, into the rising sun…_

 _Dr. Chase squints through the misty edges of the Iris-message screen. "You mean Annabeth isn't there yet? But she left days ago!" He runs a hand fearfully through his graying blonde hair. "Annie," he mutters. "What happened?" I'm trembling as I sever the connection…_

 _Annabeth is sprawled on the forest floor, screaming, one arm raised to cover her eyes, the other smashed to a bloody pulp on the red-stained blanket of pine needles. I raise a hand to her, but the forest tumbles down into dark shadows around her, shadows with wicked, gleaming teeth…_

 _A tall, slender figure stands in front of the Athena cabin, which almost looks red in the light of the setting sun. Blonde hair twines in a braid down her back. I recognize the one-hand-on-hip stance, the contemplative tilt of the head, and break into a run-it doesn't matter that I've never seen her hair tied back before, or that her silver jacket is one I don't recognize. It's obviously Annabeth. I place my arm on her shoulder, and she spins around-But she's not smiling. Her lips are set in a frown, and her eyes are colder than I've ever seen them, more silver than gray. Silver like the moon. "It's over, Percy," she utters, emotionless, and tears her arm out of my grasp._

I jolt awake, gasping, a hand pressed to my chest, and bang my forehead against the slats of the bunk on top of mine. The terrifying mix of dreams and memory is so fresh in my mind that I have to squeeze my eyes shut and dig my nails into my palms to get rid of it. _Annabeth's fine_ , I recite. _She's strong. She's smart. She'll make it back._ I take a deep breath, and open my eyes.

The Poseidon cabin is empty again, except for the shadows crowding in the corners of the room. Tyson's still roaming, looking for Annabeth, and Poseidon seems to have been keeping to the now non-existent oath not to have any more children. I sigh, and rake my hands through my hair, swinging out of bed, wincing as my feet hit the cool tiles. I've just finished pulling on a shirt, and I'm turning towards the door, intending to visit the Apollo cabin and see if any of the campers have seen anything about Annabeth, when the shadows by the door pool into an inky mass, and out of it steps Nico di Angelo.

He looks terrible. His hair, usually waving wildly around his face, is matted to his scalp by something that I realize with horror is dried blood. His aviator jacket is torn open on one shoulder, and I can see his pale, bloody skin through the tattered remains of his black T-shirt sleeve. "Nico!" His black eyes are rolling back, and he wobbles unsteadily on his feet, but he still manages to choke out a sentence before he stumbles and falls flat on his face. "Annabeth-found her," he gasps, and then the son of Hades is unconscious on my cabin floor.

I stare at his limp form in shock for a moment before what he said really sinks in, and I start to grin, uncontrollably. He found her! And I know Nico-if she was in danger, he would bring her back with him. That must mean she's fine, she's coming back…She'll be here!

Heart racing, I scoop Nico off of the floor, slinging the surprisingly light boy across my shoulders, and kick the door open, determined to get him to the infirmary and find out where my girlfriend is.


	2. Chapter 2: Percy

I pace back and forth nervously around the infirmary, running my hands through my hair in frustration. I manage to keep my eyes locked on the brightly-colored posters on the wall for approximately ten seconds before giving in and whirling around.

"Is he awake yet?" I yelp. Will Solace looks up from the potion-soaked rag he's twining around the back of Nico's head, where his scalp was slashed open by something-something with poisonous claws, the son of Apollo told me, before I drove him completely insane with my questions. "No, Perseus," he sighs. "He's not awake yet. He probably won't be awake for days. This is serious poison-and he just made it worse by shadow-traveling. The idiot! I told him to watch that Underworld magic…"

Will reaches out a tan hand, and strokes back Nico's damp hair from his forehead. The gesture is oddly tender, and it takes me a moment to remember that Will and Nico started officially dating the day Annabeth left for California. Guilt rushes through me. "Sorry," I wince. "I forgot…he's your boyfriend, right?" Will sighs, and pulls his hand back. "No…It didn't work out."

"Oh…" I'm not really sure how to respond. "Um, I'm sorry." Will half-smiles as he looks away. "No," he says. "I was the one who ended it. It was just a crush…we both got over it. I would've kept it going for his sake, but really, he's in love with someone else anyway."

"Really? Who?" Will turns to me, puzzlement clear in his blue eyes. "You mean he never told you? He said he was going to…" I blink in surprise-Nico wanted to talk to me about his love life? I would've assumed he'd go talk to Jason-out of the seven, he seemed closest to the son of Jupiter. (Besides his sister, of course, but that went without saying.) "What did he want to say to me?" I inquire, curious. Will parts his lips as though about to speak, and then looks down at Nico. "He definitely wanted to tell you himself," he mutters. "I don't think-"

The infirmary door flies open. Piper's standing there, panting, her eyes wild. "Um, Percy," she pants. "I really think you need to come see this."

She's sitting in front of the Athena cabin, knees curled up to her chest as she crouches on the marble steps. Her hair is coiled back into a long braid that drapes over her shoulder, and the image, contrasting oddly with my memories of Annabeth, breathes vivid life back into my nightmare-Annabeth, with those cold, silver eyes, telling me it's over…

"Wise girl?" I whisper, kneeling on the stairs next to her, and reaching out a hand to pick up hers. "Percy," she replies, opening her eyes-which shine with tears. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, turning her face away. "Hey." I reach up and grab her cheek, gently directing her gaze back to me. "What's wrong?" She squeezes her eyes closed as she speaks, as though every word causes her pain. "No one's told you what…what I did?" I shake my head, then realize she can't see with her eyes shut, and respond out loud. "Can't you tell, Seaweed Brain?" she demands, voice breaking on the nickname. I don't want to, but I examine her. The silvery hue to her clothes, the dagger at her belt now glowing the same shade as the moon…

"No," I whisper. Annabeth meets my eyes for the first time, and they are the same color as the moon, as they were in my dream, and just as distant. "I'm so sorry, Percy," she mutters. "I…The Lady Artemis found me. I was attacked, dying…The Hunters fought them off."

I think of my dream, and the black figures who tore the trees down with them as they descended on Annabeth, and shudder.

"The only way she could save me was if I joined the Hunt," Annabeth continued, almost as though she couldn't stop herself from talking, no matter how much she wanted to. "I-I wasn't ready, Percy. I wasn't ready to die…"

My heart crumples in on itself, folding away until it feels like there's nothing left of it at all. Annabeth must be able to see the grief on my face, because she starts crying harder than ever, pulling her hand out of mine to cover her face. It still hurts to see her devastated like this, and all of a sudden, I know what I have to do. What I have to say to make it right-even if none of me believes it.

"Listen to me, Annabeth," I interrupt, firmly, grabbing her hand again to make sure she looks towards me. "I would do anything to make sure you're happy, and safe. Anything. I would give my _life_."

My heart, my very soul, is screaming at me to stop there. That this-what I'm about to say, is wrong.

"And if you have to be with the Hunters for that to be true, if I can't protect you, or be the one to make you happy…"

I swallow, and stare at her, memorizing her features, the light dusting of freckles that is just barely visible in the rising moonlight, the slant and gleam of her gray eyes. The last time I will see those eyes looking at me like that. Like she still treasures every word-even the stupid ones-I say.

"Then I'm sure I can give up you."

"Percy," Annabeth gasps, and looks almost as though she's going to throw herself into my arms and kiss me. My lips tingle with anticipation, but then both of us remember what she is now. A Hunter. A maiden.

Off-limits.

She stands, her shoulders drooping, her eyes immeasurably sad as she looks down at me. "I'm sorry," she whispers, and turns to walk away. Back to the Hunt, where I won't be able to follow. Ever again.

When she vanishes into the forest, the moonlight seeming to linger between the trees she passed through, I finally let myself cry. I curl up on the steps of the Athena cabin, not caring about the puzzled looks the campers give me as they file past to go to sleep, or the coldness of the ground, or the sick feeling swimming through me.

How can any of that matter, if Annabeth is gone?


	3. Chapter 3: Nico

_I raised a fist, forcing it closer and closer to the weathered blue paint of the door, then sighed in frustration and dropped it. My eyes jumped side to side, taking in coral walls and the sides of the cabins around it, avoiding the one thing that I really wanted to focus on-the door of the Poseidon cabin._

 _Dully, I wondered if this was something that I could get out of by shadow-traveling to China. Probably not, I admitted to myself, sighing in resignation. When I came back-and, for some stupid reason, I always came back-Percy Jackson would still be here, and Will would be furious with me for not even trying to do the one thing he had asked of me when we broke up._

 _I gritted my teeth, determined, finally, to get it over with-Just tell him, Nico, just tell him, he's not going to care, just tell him-I clenched my fingers together and knocked, keeping an angry Will floating in the corner of my mind. The door swung open, and the breath rushed out of my chest at the sight of Percy Jackson standing in the threshold of his cabin._

 _He was shirtless, for one thing, and the sight of the sun rippling off his smooth tan skin, his muscles clear on his lithe frame, was distracting beyond belief._

 _But past that-he looked terrible. His hair had gone past its usual standard of messiness into a tangled mess flopping weakly over his forehead, as though he'd run his hands through it a million times. His green eyes were distant, panicky, and dark circles made them pop, reddish, from his sagging face. His fingers were twitching, beating a trembling rhythm against the air. I'd never seen Percy lose control of himself like that._

 _He looked…he looked-_

 _The way Annabeth had when he was gone._

 _Oh gods._

 _With a sudden sense of foreboding, I knew what he was going to say, even before he began. "Nico," he gasped, and his voice was hoarse, like he'd been crying. "Nico," he repeated, "Annabeth is missing. She went to her dad's house-and he says she left days ago, and she's not back…"_

 _If he'd said this to me a few years ago, my heart would've leapt. Annabeth, out of the way? Percy free to think about someone else…me…_

 _But now? Now I couldn't think about that. All I could see was the pain on his face-the face that had never, ever been anything but strong. It was wrong, so wrong it almost knocked me to my knees, to see him like this. And the only way to bring him back from it would be to find Annabeth. I'd accepted that a long time ago-that I could never be the one to make him happy, that the only way to get one of those brilliant smiles was to be nearby when he was with someone he cared about, and the only way to forget that I needed them was to run._

 _It didn't mean I loved him less-it meant, if anything, I loved him more. I could look past what I wanted, and into what he needed from me. I could be strong for him-I could stop running._

 _"I'll find her," I whispered, tears threatening at the edge of my voice. "I'll find her for you, Percy, I swear it on the River Styx."_

 _And then, thunder racing through the sky around us, I disappeared into the shadows._

"Nico di Angelo, if you don't wake up right now and tell me what in Hades is going on-" I blink, the memory dissolving into fragments of blackness, and my ex-boyfriend swims into view. Will's hands are set on his hips, his eyebrows look as though they're trying to achieve space flight, and his blue eyes are squinting furiously at me. I groan, and prop myself up against the pillows piled against the headboard of the infirmary bed. I got plenty of practice ignoring Will's exasperation during our short relationship, and I take my time with my answer, reaching up to finger the bandage squeezing against the slash on my scalp and twisting to examine my shoulder, which is completely healed. Then I sigh, and raise my eyes to meet Will's demanding glare. "Annabeth joined the Hunt," I say, being purposely vague.

"Obviously." Will's voice is steely. "I was wondering more along the lines of how in Zeus's name you managed to get yourself poisoned, get an arrow shaft stuck in your stomach, and tear your aviator jacket, which you treat like your child."

I wince at the memories that the question invokes, and decide to go with the simple answer. "I went somewhere I shouldn't have."

Will groans. "I get it if you don't want to tell anyone else. But I was the one who had to pull an arrow out of your stomach. It was worse than delivering a baby!"

I roll my eyes, and look away, staring down the poster of the sick satyr on the opposite infirmary wall. After a moment, the words haltingly begin to come. "I…My sister died three years ago because she joined the Hunt." Will gasps sharply, and I bite my lip, remembering Bianca. "And then, on the quest, they took Reyna and I thought I was never going to see her again…She almost died because of Orion. When I found out they had Annabeth…I…overreacted."

I look back up at him, meeting his shocked gaze. "Your sister," he murmurs. "I never knew. Gods, Nico, I'm sorry…" He shakes his head, his shaggy hair bouncing wildly. I press my lips together and look away. His hand lands on my shoulder suddenly, warm as the sun. "So," he says, forced levity in his voice. "Those wolves have poisonous claws?" I grin, shaken from my memories of Bianca, and meet Will's gentle blue eyes. "Thanks," I whisper. "That's what friends are for," he replies, smiling.

Friends…It should seem wrong to call what's between us friendship. He was my first kiss, the first person I ever fell for who fell for me back. But now, he's nothing but a friend. The only person who I still imagine could be anything more than a friend is…

"Percy!" I hiss, jolting upright, ignoring the twinge of pain that shoots from shoulder to stomach at the sudden movement. "Will…" I turn to him, panicky realization roaring with the blood in my ears. "Will…what happened to him?"

For the first time, there is genuine worry in the blue eyes of the son of Apollo. "Nico-" he begins, and then breaks off, reaching one hand up to run through his hair in frustration. I swing my legs out of the bed and push myself up onto my feet, glaring at him through a wave of dizziness. "Tell me."

"He-he hasn't left his cabin. Not since Annabeth…The doors are locked, and no one else could get in." My heart hammers against the inside of my chest so quickly that I'm sure it's going to break free. "I'm leaving," I mumble, blood roaring in my ears, and spin away from Will, scanning the infirmary for my possessions. There-on a table next to the door my aviator jacket is draped over my sword. I hurry over to it, the way Percy's face looked when he asked me to find Annabeth swimming in front of my eyes every time I blink. Icy panic trickles through me, making my fingers fumble with my belt. I know what heartbreak is like. I know what it can do to you.

And I can't let Percy be hurt like that.

Pulse racing, I dash out of the Big House, my boots unlaced, sword banging sheathless against my leg. Sprinting for the Poseidon cabin.

 **A/N: Hi! So, I don't usually do Author's Notes, but there was an important note about the chronology in the story that I wanted to throw out there. In my world, Blood of Olympus happened exactly as it did, except Annabeth left to visit her family immediately after, so the day when Nico planned to go tell Percy how he felt was the day Annabeth was officially declared missing-therefore, Nico never told Percy how he felt.**

 **Hope everyone's enjoying!**


	4. Chapter 4: Percy

The cabin is dark, curtained, and the picture faded with time, but I can still make out every detail-my memories providing what my sleepless, red-rimmed eyes cannot. Annabeth, looking at the camera and rolling her eyes in playful irritation. She's fingering the gray streak in her loose blonde curls almost unconsciously, the other hand holding Daedalus' bronze laptop on her lap, perched cross-legged on a bed under a window in the corner of the Poseidon cabin. I bite my lip, reaching up to press the peeling edges of the photo back against the wall, willing the old tape to hold on, and let my fingers linger on her face, frozen in the expression that's so familiar that I can close my eyes and still see it there…

My eyelids fall shut, and the tears tumble free. It's not fair-that after everything, after Tartarus, that I could lose her like this, to the Hunters of Artemis.

"Percy!" For a moment, I let myself believe that it's her voice. Even though I can tell it's a boy's voice, even though they sound terrified and angry at the same time, I let myself follow the dream, believing that it's Annabeth outside, grinning in exasperation and asking me to let her in…

Whoever it is is hammering on the door now, sharp, quick raps that punctuate my throbbing headache-reminder of the fact that I didn't sleep at all last night, too afraid of the dreams-with stabs of agony. I pull a pillow over my head, curling into a ball and keeping my eyes locked on Annabeth's picture. I haven't opened the door for anyone, not since I stumbled in here-three? four?- days ago, determined not to leave again. Why would I start now? "Perseus Jackson, if you don't open the goddam door right now I'm coming in. Answer me!"

The voice is almost panicky now, as though whoever it is fears that I've done something, is actually worried about how I feel instead of just scared by the fact that I've locked myself in. I blink, trying to place who would be that worried about me. Jason? But he hasn't come by for nights now, not since he tried to break down the door and Chiron had to drag him away.

"I'm coming in." The voice is trembling now, with fury and fear, and I frown-slipping into that angry cadence, it almost sounds familiar...

A hand lands on my shoulder and a strangled scream escapes my throat. There's an entire bunk bed shoved against the door-not even Jason could get it open. I roll over, sitting up with one fist clenched, ready to strike, the other scrabbling desperately for Riptide. Heart hammering, I look up at the invader-

"Nico?" I stutter, recognizing the son of Hades. For a moment, I can read sheer relief in his eyes, which are the closest to brown that I've seen them since Bianca died. But then they harden, darkening again, every angle of his face sharpening as though he's clenching his teeth. "Percy," he says. "What are you doing?"

I can't read his voice-there's disapproval and frustration, and something else, something inexpressible…I think of the panic in his voice and wonder if maybe, he counts me as more of a friend than he's usually willing to admit.

I finally find Riptide, in pen form, and extricate it from the mess of sheets near the foot of my bed, belatedly realizing that I really don't need it. "Jason said you've been in here for five days."

I grit my teeth and kick my way free of the sheets, standing and realizing that, despite the two years I have on him, he's only a few inches shorter than me. "Why do you care?" It comes out harsher than I meant, and he must realize-he looks away, his hair falling over his eyes. "I'm your-friend." In the dark, it almost seems like he flinches on the word friend, and I remember with a wave of guilt everything I've put him through, what I did to that happy-go-lucky 10-year-old who loved Mythomagic.

"I'm sorry." Grudgingly.

He's silent, still staring at the window, and when he speaks it's barely a whisper, harsh in the eerily silent cabin. "My sister gave her life for you, Percy. I want to honor that. This-this is not what she gave her life for."

I frown, guilt mingling with anger. "You don't get it," I mutter. "You've never…never lost someone you loved..."

"Don't say that." Nico whips around, throwing out a hand and clutching my arm. "You don't know-"

He inhales deeply, steadying his shaking hands, and then continues. "Trust me," he says. "I have. But I know-" His eyes are intense, and for some reason I can't look away. "You can't just give up. It makes it so much worse…"

He heaves a trembling sigh, and suddenly seems to realize that he's touching my hand. He pulls away, and when he speaks, it's to the wall, anger tightening his voice again. "So I'm not letting you. I can get in here-and get you out, whether you want me to or not. So, put some clothes on-" There's a slight warble in the command, and I blink, realizing for the first time that I'm wearing nothing but boxers, since Annabeth was the one who bought me all of my pajama pants, and I've been refusing to get them out, "-and I'm taking you to dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, Percy. Dinner. The only meal that you have left if you lock yourself in your cabin and don't come out until breakfast and lunch are done."

I cross my arms, petulant for a reason that I can't even name. "And if I don't?" Nico raises an eyebrow, and I'm reminded abruptly how terrifying the demigod can be when he wants to, how scared of him and his odd, dark ideas when he was fourteen, telling me that I had to go to the River Styx to have a chance of winning against Kronos…

"Then I'll shadow-travel you there. Right now. As you are. You can't stay in here forever, Percy," he warns me. "It'll just make it worse when you do leave-because you'll have to eventually." Finally, he laughs, a sharp, bitter exhale. "Trust me."

I look at him-the hurt look in his eyes, and remember how much he's changed over the years. Suddenly, I wonder how much of that was because of Bianca, and how much was because of whatever heartbreak he suffered-losing the person he loved. I wonder who she-no he, I think with chagrin, remembering Will-is…

Something about his face, the intensity, the way he said he was my friend…I turn to my dresser and pull a camp T-shirt out of my top drawer, shrugging it on and digging out a pair of jeans to go with it. I turn back to Nico, meeting his gaze. "Help me move the bunk bed. I'm coming out."

It's almost worse than I was afraid it would be. The Aphrodite cabin takes one look at me and bursts into tears-all except Drew Tanaka, who's smiling, which is almost worse. Whispers fly faster than the curious glances, and I can see Chiron studying me almost pityingly out of the corner of my eye. Nico whips away from me, stalking towards the desolate Hades table at the other end of the pavilion, and I swallow and head to my table, wondering how on earth Annabeth managed when I was…

Don't think about Annabeth.

For once, blue pancakes don't sound appealing. All I can picture is the look on Annabeth's face when I first explained the blue food, or her laugh when we visited my mom and she somehow managed to find blue peanut butter to make sandwiches for us…

Don't think about Annabeth.

After two bites of brown pancakes-surprisingly, they do taste different-I shove my plate away and stand up, pushing a hand into my pocket to finger Riptide. I'm blazing with energy, all of a sudden, as if days of hunching over and dreaming about Annabeth have left my body jumpy and ready to fight. I need to get to the training arena. I push past Jason-who's bent over, talking to Nico with a sly grin on his face-and break into a run as I hit the grass.

I can't remember fighting like this since the Titan War. Lining up the training dummies and slicing through them in whirls of straw and sawdust, slashing them into tinier and tinier pieces. In my head, I can see Luke doing the same thing, and it almost scares me, but not enough to make me stop. Honestly, I haven't fought like this for too long, and it feels good, to let my body go on autopilot and my instincts take over, pulling out moves I haven't tried for years, taking out my frustration and pain on the training dummies.

I hack them to pieces until the sun trickles down past the horizon, and then I go back to my cabin, not caring about the campfire. As I clamber into my bed, not bothering to undress, I warn myself about the dreams, determined to stay awake-but for the first time since Annabeth left, it doesn't matter. I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow.


	5. Chapter 5: Nico

I can see Percy on the steps of his cabin as I approach-his Camp Half-Blood T-shirt a firebrand in the morning light, his head tilted upwards as though he's staring at something-and it's almost enough to make me hope that today will be one of the good days.

Over the past two weeks, I've learned to recognize what the day will be like as I approach the cabin to take him to the dining pavilion. The days when he's sprawled loosely across the steps-those are the good days, the ones where there's a smile on his face and confidence in his eyes so that they sparkle again, like the ocean in the eye of a hurricane, the ones where I can almost see the muscle lining his lean form, creeping back to fill in for days of inactivity and hunger. The days where he talks to everyone like his old self, and I can see the hero that I had so foolishly believed he was when I first saw him-infallible, incapable of hurting anyone, ever, even me…

And then there are the days when the memory of how he looked when I shadow-traveled into his cabin for the first time is tangible, seared into my eyelids as I approach his bed. As he lies there, bare chest nothing but jutting ribs and sunken stomach, the shadows around his eyes so deep that they almost look black, and my heart is threatening to climb up my throat with my stomach at the fear…

And then there are the days like today.

I can see it as I approach. He hasn't even tried to brush his hair back-which is growing out into tiny waves that fall into his eyes-and the shirt he's wearing is crumpled, as though he slept in it and couldn't be bothered to change when he woke up. And the lines of his body are all wrong-taut, pulled inwards, with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms clasped around them, fingers straining as though he'll fall apart if he doesn't keep himself together.

"Percy," I say, hating myself for the tremble in my voice.

"Nico," he replies, rising to his feet and eyeing me. "I'm not-I can't go to breakfast today."

I cross my arms, wondering why he bothered to get dressed if he was just going to go back into his cabin. But then he says something else, and I realize that that's not what he wants.

"I have to do something-have to fight." One hand is still clenched into a fist, so tightly I'm afraid that blood will come trickling out of it any second now. Riptide, in pen form, is twirling between the fingers of the other, barely more than a blur. "It's the only time I'm not afraid…not afraid of what I am without her."

I drag my gaze up to his eyes, and the darkness I see there should terrify me.

"In Tartarus," he goes on, his voice almost mesmerizing. "I would've…I would've…"

Fear trickles down my spine at what he might say, and all of a sudden, I can't let myself hear it. I know all too well what Tartarus can do to someone, and I don't want to know what it did to the boy who, despite everything, I still want to believe is the perfect hero.

* * *

"I'll spar with you," I affirm, and the shadow across Percy's face fades slightly, leaving a half-grin in its place.

"Anything," Percy says. "Powers, curses…anything." I raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to rethink what he just offered me, but he doesn't, just uncaps Riptide and holds it at the ready. I shrug slightly, and pull my sword. All it takes is a raised eyebrow-and he's on me.

I barely block the first blow that scythes towards my head, connecting with enough force to set the blades ringing as they cross. In the next second, he's lunging for my side, and I have to whirl out of the way, not even attempting to parry it. He rains blows down onto me, blows that I scarcely catch, and suddenly it feels like I'm drowning, waves pushing me under the surface every time I try to take a breath, a raging storm focused entirely on destroying me. I've watched Percy fight before, but this-this is different, a wild attack that almost feels like he's not just sparring with me, like he's driving forward towards something more…

Desperately, I attempt a jab of my own, but Riptide deflects it effortlessly and drives forward, slicing across my shoulder with a spurt of blood. I curse, the pain reinvigorating me, and slap the next blow out of the way furiously. This time, when I lunge, I plunge myself into his shadow, and whirl out on the other side of him, stumbling only slightly as I whip my blade out, slamming it against him and sending him staggering back.

He growls, Riptide flashing out, but now I'm ready, the shadows licking at my feet, eager to take me back. I fall back into them, and emerge two feet behind him, perfectly positioned to flick his sword out of his hand as he spins to find me.

Only it doesn't work like that, because he counters my disarm with a twist of his own that deflects my blade to the side, and throws me off-balance for the barest instant-that he takes advantage of to hook his leg through mine, sending me spiraling towards the ground. I yelp with surprise as I tumble towards his shadow-

His shadow. I grin, and let myself slip into it, emerging on my feet at the other end of the arena, and when he comes to meet me, I'm ready, my sword steady in my hands, flinging towards his head-distracting him as he struggles to defend himself-and I stick my foot out, intercepting him as he shifts his weight back to support himself against the blow. He catches himself, but now the balance has shifted.

Neither of us is winning, exactly-more like we're falling into a pattern, where we're striking and blocking so quickly our swords are blurs of bronze and black, each of us somehow aware of where the other's blade is going to be before it's there. Whenever he starts overwhelming me, I slide into the shadows and emerge a few feet away from him, and whenever I manage to get a thrust in, he catches himself within seconds.

I should be exhausted-I've never shadow-traveled this much in a single day-but instead I'm exhilarated. Maybe it's the fact that they're tiny, two-foot jumps, or that I don't have to focus on where I'm going, just on going-but whatever the reason, I'm still going, dancing through the pattern with Percy. It's the first time I haven't been afraid to be close to him, the first time I've really let my walls down-

And then I realize that I'm laughing. Both of us are, tiny breathless gasps as we whirl past each other. Percy's eyes are glowing, the brightest I've seen them since the Titan War ended. And I'm sure that I must look the same way…

Abruptly, I'm terrified. What does he see…what does he think? Can he see it on my face, the secret that is more precious than ever now that I've actually let myself be his friend? If he knew, I'm sure, he would never look at me the same way again, too afraid that I would be trying to take Annabeth's place…

He flicks the sword out of my hand with a move that I should have stopped easily, but I can't. I can really see his face now-see the brilliant lines and planes of it, the simple enjoyment that he gets out of having me as a friend, nothing like the way he would look at Annabeth, and the pain of being this close to him and knowing that he doesn't know-because I'm too afraid to tell him, because I can't get over him-is too much.

He laughs as my sword clatters to the ground, but I can't move, can't join in. Suddenly, I'm trembling-with fear of what he sees on my face, with rage at Eros and Aphrodite and at myself, that I can't just let go and be friends with him.

"Nico?" He's noticed now, that something is wrong, and he steps toward me curiously, reaching out a hand as though he wants to put it on my arm to steady me, and I can't let him do that. Can't let him touch me now, when all of my emotions are raw, so close to breaking through-

"I'm leaving," I croak, and I duck away from his arm, sweeping up my sword and disappearing.

Back to the shadows-to running away again.

Just like I always have.


	6. Chapter 6: Percy

This is not pain.

This is _more._ This is every inch of me whirling away, out of my control, trembling and shattering and pouring out over the floor of my cabin in pieces that will never be put back together. This is my heart shoved one step past broken-gone, torn out of my chest to leave hanging threads of sheer agony to replace it. This is losing everyone and everything that was keeping me up, every bone in my body snapping at once, not leaving me with just the hurt, but with the complete inability to keep my head above the water.

This, I realize with an awful certainty in my twisted, trembling stomach, this is drowning. This…sinking, into blackness with no idea where the way out is, too far down for any reaching hands to catch me, my lungs one tiny gasp away from filling with the cold, slick water that for once, is not my element-but not full yet, keeping me hovering here, past redemption or salvation…a living ghost.

A scream tears free of my throat, raw and pained, dragging my lungs out with it, scattering them in bloody fragments over my sheets, and my nails dig deeper into my hands, so deep that I can feel the warmth of the blood pouring over them, scalding like the tears on my cheeks…but the rest of my body is so _cold_ , like a corpse, every spark leached out of them by the black currents.

I can't stop. I can't stop, because _he_ is floating behind my eyes, Tartarus, a terrible blend of the pit and his human form, black and awful like the darkest shadows, staring at me with a smirk playing across his lips, and he raises a single hand, opening his palm as though giving a gift, but offering nothing but pain-the eyes of everyone that I couldn't save. Bianca and Zoe and Castor and Beckendorf and Silena, Michael Yew, Ethan and Luke…and I can see that they know that it's _my fault_ , my fault for not being strong enough, not stopping the war quickly enough. And then there are more, the more recent ones that hurt even more…Bob, Damasen, sacrificing themselves to let us escape, Jake Mason and Katie Gardner, Leo…

And then Annabeth, walking away from me, not even looking back.

I close my eyes and grit my teeth and try to hold myself together, but I can't. Because for once, Nico isn't here to pick up the pieces that Annabeth left behind. He isn't here to be the friend-the guardian angel-that I need. It hurts to realize how much I rely on him, how much I need him to keep me sane-and it hurts even more that it took him disappearing for three days on end to make me realize it.

Guilt takes the last piece of my insides, churning uncomfortably-but so familiarly. Nico di Angelo-the boy who I failed, over and over. Letting his sister die, letting him fall into Tartarus on his own, and never being able to earn his trust…And yet he did so much for me, risking his life over and over again-betraying his father, befriending a Titan, leading the others to the Doors just out of Tartarus, picking me back up, being the only one willing to help me through it.

He probably realized everything I'd done to him, realized that I'm not worth his help-I'm just Percy Jackson, broken hero who can't even keep his promises to the one good friend he has left. I curl into a tiny ball, an agonized moan tearing out of me as a whole new pain hits…Nico's finally gone, and without him, I have no one, no one else deluded enough to hold on to someone so broken.

The last bit of air slides out of my lungs, and I'm tumbling, down, hopeless, falling into Tartarus again, only this time, I don't have Annabeth to save me…

"Percy!" The door slams against the wall, a thunderclap that isn't enough to even turn me. "Oh gods, Percy, Percy, please…"

A warm hand grabs my shoulder, clenching painfully tight, and flips me over. Panicked black eyes skim across my face, and the person is sobbing something, apologizing over and over…

"Nico," I cough, recognizing him with a jolt of confusion-Nico is _gone_ , finally better off without me-and he nods, grabbing my hovering hand in both of his and clutching it. "You came back."

"I came back," he breathes, tears tracking silently down his cheeks.

"Why…" I don't have enough strength to finish the sentence.

"Why did I come back?" His voice breaks into sobs. "Why wouldn't I, Percy?"

I gasp softly, the only response that I can manage, so torn apart that even the miracle of seeing Nico can't put me back together, and I feel my eyes starting to slide away. He grips my hand harder, anchoring me here.

"Why did I come back?" he repeats, panicky. "I came back because of you. Because you're worth it-everything…everything that you do to me is worth it. Because you are amazing and strong and powerful and you can get through this, you have to get through this, because you are Percy Jackson and you're strong and…and I…"

I don't hear the end of his sentence. Blackness takes me again, but this time it's warm and comforting-Nico's shadow, not the shadow of my nightmares.


	7. Chapter 7: Nico

I stare at Percy, unable to wrench my eyes away, frozen by guilt at the sight of his emaciated body…as bad as though I'd never been here at all, as though he's been in this bed since Annabeth left. Ribs outlined so sharply against his skin that it seems like they should be jutting through it, skin stretched so tight over his face that his eyes sink back-behind the brittle tufts of hair that has finally grown over his face-and his cheeks collapsed into them, tiny nicks and cuts oozing along his arms-as though he didn't go to the infirmary after our fight-and blood dried onto his lips, marking where he's bitten into them so many times that they gave up on healing…

I realize that my hands are trembling, and clamp them into fists, forcing them onto the floor next to my bent knees, trying to stop it-but I can't, because all of this is my fault, because I left him and he fell back into this stupid depression, because he loves Annabeth, and he will always love her more than anyone else in the world, no matter what I do for him, and…and because I told him.

 _I told him._

I let the words slip out-with Hazel's parting words ringing in my ears- _You can't just keep running away from him, Nico. You're strong enough…You have to be strong for him too, he needs you_ -and fear twisting my stomach into knots that I mistook for the weight of a spirit drifting away, with panicked tears blurring the world into one messy picture of Percy's ruined face…

I told him.

I don't know whether or not he heard me-his eyes were so distant, already slipping shut-but I can still taste the words, a final confession of everything that I've been working so hard to hide that the lying and the running and the hardness have become a part of me…

And if he knows, then who am I?

I grit my teeth, trying to drive the thoughts away, to force myself to my feet, to get Percy to the infirmary and do…do _something_ , burn the nervous energy that is dancing around me, filling the air with the whispers of the dead, repeating my words as though mocking my efforts to forget them, but I can't move. I'm paralyzed by fear, unable to even turn my head away from the awful sight of Percy limp on his bed…

At first I think I'm the one trembling, shaking so hard that it seems like the earth is moving with me. But then I realize that the tremors aren't just inside my own body-They're running down the length of my back and into the ground, shaking the cabin, splitting the floorboards apart as though the earth below is tearing itself apart and wants to take the entire Poseidon cabin with it…

And I have no power to stop it. I can't hold back the terrible mess of guilt and pain and fear building inside of me, and it is erupting out in the only path that it can take. I grasp hopelessly for it, but I've been denying my own power for too long-years and years, ever since the first time I let go of it, bending the skeletons, and the earth, to my will, and Percy stared at me with that baffled, terrified look on his face-and I can't hold it back any longer. Any second now, the ground is going to give way…

"Nico?" a voice calls uncertainly from the doorway, past the bunk bed I tore aside in my haste to get in, too exhausted to shadow-travel, and I don't even have time to think about what I'm going to do-I am wrenched to my feet by the emotion and the darkness roiling around me, and it flails towards the form at the threshold of the cabin, a crack zig-zagging across the floor with it. The maelstrom of shadows and my emotions slams into them and sends them staggering back a step, my despair burrowing into the depths of their blue eyes.

Jason crumples to his knees, shock etched onto his face, and I sag back to the ground with him, drained.

The larger part of me, built of years of fear and secrecy, wants to run. Melt back into the shadows and disappear before I have to face the consequences of all of this all over again. Just leave all of it behind-Percy and my problems and my mistakes.

But the smaller part of me, the part of me that speaks in a voice that sounds eerily like Bianca's, won't let me. It points out that all of this happened because I ran away in the first place…and that running away again won't fix anything.

I push myself up, trembling with the effort, and sway towards Jason, dead on my feet. I come to a halt, staring down at the sweat standing out on his too-pale forehead and the haunted expression in his eyes-and I hold out a hand, gripping his wrist to haul him to his feet-

"I'm sorry."

* * *

"What-what was that?"

Jason's voice is rough-hoarse with pain and the emotions I forced onto him-and I wince at the reminder that I'm not strong enough to control myself…

"The-the-"

Reluctantly, I drag my gaze away from Percy's sleeping form, sprawled across the infirmary bed, and towards Jason. His hands are still twitching slightly-I can see it, despite his attempt to hide it by clenching them into tight fists on his knees-and a vestige of that awful, hollow expression lingers in his icy eyes, but his movements are steady as he leans forward, away from the back of the chair, and he has enough control over his emotions to look concerned for me.

"The emotions?" I supply, ending his stammering attempts to describe what I did to him. He nods, his teeth involuntarily biting his lip as he does so, and I wince at the reminder that I hurt someone else, that I lost control again…

"It's another gift from my father," I snap, suddenly unable to meet Jason's eyes. "Sort of like what he can do with his Helm of Darkness, only much less powerful…I don't get to choose what I make you feel."

"Nico…" Jason's voice trails off, terrified and-awed? No, I have to be hearing him wrong…

"I'm sorry," I hiss, back to staring at Percy's softly rising and falling chest, another reminder of what I've done to people by running away. "I lost control, okay? I didn't mean-"

Jason's hand closes around my wrist, and I jerk free, snapping my head back around to stare at him. He flinches slightly at the murderous look that must be plastered across my face right now, but refuses to look away. "I didn't mean that," he presses. "I meant-well, if that was what you were feeling right then…Well, it's not your fault by any means that you lost control. Gods, I can't even imagine…"

I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. "I shouldn't have. I should've been able to…To do something else…"

Jason shakes his head vehemently. "It wasn't your fault. Not at all…gods Nico, don't blame yourself. Look what Percy did because he was rejected by the person he loves-And she just left. At least he had some time with her…You've just been..."

His voice fades as I rise to my feet, shaking. "No." I snarl, my teeth clenched so hard I can almost feel them cracking. "You don't-No. Don't talk to me about love, Jason. Don't say that…Don't mention-"

Abruptly, all of it is catching up to me-everything that I did today, finally letting Percy know-and I can't stay in this room, having this conversation with Jason Grace-perfect, _normal_ , Jason Grace and his little stinging reminders that all of this is because of Annabeth-because of her, not because of me, because Percy loves _her_.

"Thank you for helping me bring Percy here," I mumble stiffly, and then I'm gone, whipping out of the door of the infirmary, storming free of the Big House, until I hit the green lawn stretching out in front of it, and break into a run, sprinting through the brilliant midday sun, and then I'm inside the Hades cabin, and I sink back onto my bed and bury my head in my hands, so done with this entire chaotic day…


	8. Chapter 8: Percy

_I know that I'm dreaming-but I can't bring myself to want to wake up, because in this dream, Annabeth is still here. She nestles in my arms, her cheek warm against my shoulder as she stares up at me, her gray eyes brilliant and trusting-bright and focused, like they never quite were after Tartarus. I can see that endearing half-smile that's been haunting my waking thoughts dancing across her face, and the faint sunlight illuminating wherever we are brings out the tiny splash of freckles across her tan cheeks. Her curls tumble down around her face, so strikingly blonde that they're almost white, and the gray streak from when she held the sky is still there, hanging right next to her face-and I know without looking that mine is there too, even though they both faded this last summer. Her warm hands are pushed up underneath my T-shirt, clinging to my back as though she can sense the desperation to have her with me pulsing through me, and is reassuring me that she's not going to leave, ever again, that she's staying with me no matter what…_

 _I loop my hands around her, meeting her silent promise with one that says I'm not going to let her go either, no matter what, and her sly half-smile expands into a blazing grin. She pulls her head off my shoulder, gently, and one of her hands is suddenly pressed against my hair, and she reaches up and presses her lips against mine, and I tighten my grip on her, and it's more beautiful than my memories made it, sheer happiness pulsing through both of us…_

" _Percy," a voice whispers, hoarse, stinging with pain and desperation-and achingly familiar from all of the times it's been the only thing that I've heard, lost without Annabeth-I have to look up, turning my head away from Annabeth and the love that my heart still aches for…because I know who it is that calls me, and I can't ignore the agony and the desperate need in his voice, any more than he could ignore it in mine-if Nico di Angelo needs me, than I have to help him._

 _His eyes are fixed on me, huge above his hollow cheeks, black as the tiny tufts of hair blown across his pale forehead by the wind that whips around him, tugging at the edges of his huge black T-shirt and pulling his twitching fingers away from his sides. Shadows lap at his bare feet, tangling around them as though eager to take him back…As though he's going to fade away into them any second, if I don't help him stay. Instinctively, I rise-the second my hands leave Annabeth, she melts away into a silver strand of smoke, twisting into the dusty sky of wherever we are, but I can't bring myself to stop and watch, or acknowledge the spike of pain that twists itself into my heart, because Nico is still watching me, that shadowed panic in his eyes…_

" _Percy," he repeats, his panicked gaze still locked on me, despite Annabeth melting away behind us-as though he never even saw her, as though he was only looking at me. "I'm so sorry, Percy," he says, the words slamming into each other in his panic to get them out..."I'm so sorry, it was my fault, please don't leave me…I'm sorry, come back, please…"_

 _I take the single step forward and encircle him in my arms, the hug that I've ached to give him ever since Bianca died, even though I knew he would just push me away…And now I know for sure that this is a dream, a beautiful dream, because he lets me hold him, wrapping his arms around me and clinging to the back of my shirt so tightly I can feel his knuckles digging into my back. His cheek presses against my shoulder, and tears burn against the fabric, and for a moment it feels like I'm holding him up…_

 _But then, suddenly, sadness washes over me too-and I couldn't even say why, except for the fact that this is a dream and it will never be real, the fact that I can still see Nico's panicked face as he ran from me in the arena and remember how Annabeth left me, because she would've died if she stayed with me, and all of a sudden I'm falling against him, and we're both clutching each other like the other is the only thing keeping us above the water…_

 _And slowly, the hug moves into something deeper, until it's impossible to tell who's holding up who, and where the tears are coming from-and deep inside both of our sorrow there's an incredible spreading peace…_

Waking from the dream is as easy as breathing underwater-I don't even have to think about doing it, it just comes as soon as I need it, the image of Nico's silk-black hair fading into the bright fluorescent lights of the Big House, his deep breaths becoming the whirring of ceiling fan, his arms around me replaced by a tangle of blankets and stiff pillows. The transition is so easy that I wonder for a moment if I'm still asleep, just sliding into another dream-surely it can't be that easy after weeks of coming awake with the sheets trying to strangle me and screams catching in my throat? Surely it's not possible for dreams to fade so quietly, without leaving someone's bloody, dying face scorched on your eyes?

Jason's face floats into view, eyes concerned behind his glasses, and I realize, reluctantly, that I'm not dreaming. "Percy?" he asks. "You awake?"

I barely bite back a sarcastic comment-struggling to keep in mind that he's probably been sitting here for a ridiculously long time waiting for me to wake up, and just because I was sure he would be Nico is no reason to be snappy with him-and struggle upright. "Yeah."

My voice is barely a croak, as though I've been swallowing fi-a vivid image pops into my mind of fire cupped in my palms, searing down my throat and settling like flaming oil in my stomach, and I shudder, shoving the thought away. "Yeah, I'm awake."

Jason's eyebrows knit in concern, and he leans over to pick up a glass from my bedside table, shoving it into my hand. "Solace told me to make sure you drank that, when you woke up," he explains, still staring at me. "He said you'd need it after being…out of it, for so long."

I nod, wincing at the wave of dizziness it sends through my head, and bring the cup up to my lips, sipping at it. Warm chocolate blossoms in my mouth, sweet and familiar as childhood, and I sigh as energy slips through me, clearing the odd haze in my mind and the ache in my throat. Ice cubes rattle as I set the glass down, and turn back to Jason.

"How did I get here?" I ask, frowning-the last thing I remember is Nico's face, and his voice desperately telling me why he came back…what he thought about me…and something else, a sentence that won't come clear in my head-

"I carried you," Jason answers, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Nico-um, found me, and I carried you here…He was too tired to shadow-travel, and…well, you were looking pretty bad."

I nod, cursory, and move on to the question suddenly burning at the tip of my tongue. "Nico…where is he?"

Jason's expression becomes even more awkward-something I hadn't imagined possible. "Um, Nico…went to his cabin, I think. I, um, might have…said something I shouldn't…" His voice trails off, and only my concern over what might've upset Nico like that stifles my laughter at the son of Jupiter's stiff expression. Carefully, I swing free of my covers, and stand-for a second, I sway dizzily, but I catch myself on the headboard of the bed, and straighten up, sighing in relief at the feeling of standing on my feet again. Jason half-rises, reaching out across the bed, but I shake my head at him. "I'm going to find Nico-I need to thank him."

He raises an eyebrow and stands up all the way. "I'll go find Solace and tell him you feel better-I assume?"

I nod, flashing a grateful grin at him as he heads out of the Big House, and bend to slip my feet into the tennis shoes someone left by the bed for me, mentally counting off cabins, struggling to remember where the Hades the Hades cabin is.


	9. Chapter 9: Percy

I stare guiltily at the door of the Hades cabin, raise a hand to knock-and quickly drop it again. "Come on, Jackson," I mutter, gnawing at the inside of my lip. "You have to do this…"

Resolute, I pull my hand back up-ignoring the fact that the paint on the door of the cabin is solidly black, without a hint of flaking, ignoring the green light dancing out from the crack under the door onto the thick stone block, ignoring the knot of guilty realization in my stomach reminding me that this is the only cabin in the camp that I've never actually entered…

At my knock, the door swings soundlessly open, revealing Nico di Angelo, a dark shadow slumped against the eerily coffin-shaped bunk across from the door. His head is buried in his hands, his pale fingers stark against his tangled curls, his elbows digging into the paper of a notebook resting on his knees-a pen is locked between two of his fingers, tapping erratically against his head.

"Nico?" I call, worry suddenly heavy in my heart…he looks so vulnerable, a side of the son of Hades that I haven't seen for years, one that I had almost assumed had faded away behind his dark, angry mask, and it feels like intruding, to be watching something this private-

Nico's head snaps up, his hands dropping down to brace themselves against the floor-I can see them trembling, pressing so hard against the floorboards that it seems he's trying to break through them. In the wavering green light of the torches hung on the walls, his eyes are shadowed, black, unreadable caverns in his pale, flickering face-but I can feel his gaze on me, burning across my face. "Nico?" I repeat, the odd sense of wrongness increasing as I step forward-it almost looks like there are tears traced down his hollow cheeks…

He twists to his feet with almost frightening speed, the green light abruptly searing away the shadows over his eyes…but they're almost as dark, pain hanging heavily in every piece of them, something shimmering, trembling at the corners of his eyes…I wonder numbly if he's crying. "What?" the demigod spits at me-I'm almost expecting his voice to shake, but it is as steady as the painfully straight line of his back, his locked knees, and the illusion of vulnerability vanishes abruptly, waves of hostility rolling off of him. "What do you want to say to me?"

Involuntarily, I stumble backwards, my hands flying upwards defensively…something is burning in the depths of Nico's eyes, a furious, manic light that almost reminds me of his father's petrifying gaze, that makes it look like there are screaming faces behind his pupils, ghosts shrieking with the pain of the demigod's anger…

"I just…just wanted to say thank you," I gasp, fear twisting my stomach into knots-I can _feel_ the shadows curling up around him, like the rising tide, lapping eagerly at my feet from behind, and they are so cold that they burn against the exposed skin of my ankles.

"Thank you?"

His words are more of a hiss than a question, but I can hear something else behind the desperate, defensive fury-something almost like curiosity, like hope…

"For coming back for me," I whisper, throwing the words into the dark depths of the cabin as though they are a hand I am flinging out for Nico to catch, so that he can drag me out of the shadows that I can feel rising even further, sucking eagerly at my feet…

The words slam into him like fists…I can see him crumpling, his rigid shoulders tumbling inwards, his clenched fists unfurling to hang blankly by his sides…the shadows recede abruptly, and he sinks downwards onto the bunk behind him, exhausted. For a moment, his eyes are fixed on the ground-as though he can't bear to meet my gaze.

Then his eyes flicker back up to me, and he laughs, hollowly-but there is no fury left in the sound.

"Didn't you hear me, Percy?" he asks. "I can't…I can't leave, even if I wanted to…"

His face twists, involuntarily, and I take a step forward, suddenly desperate to answer him, to do for him what he's been doing for me this entire time and clear that agonized look from his eyes…

"I…you just told me that you care about me," I answer. "That you think I'm worth saving because I'm strong, because you…because you think I'm a hero…"

His head drops back to the floor, and I can hear words tumbling out of him in a rush of breath…but they're inaudible, almost as though he doesn't realize he's speaking them, and I hear a rolling accent accompanying them that is almost enough to make me believe that Nico is speaking Italian…

His eyes flutter slowly back up to meet mine. "Thank you," he murmurs-and for once, his eyes are completely open, and they look as though they're going to stay that way, and I can see his twitching desire to be looking somewhere else, but he keeps staring at me, showing me that vulnerability, offering it to me like a gift…

"For…for coming to say that," he continues, drawing a shaking breath. "For…well, for being a hero."

His laugh is still hollow, but he doesn't look away, and I take another step forward-something in the back of my mind recalls the dream and wonders if Nico would let me hug him, but I can already feel the tension thickening in the air between us, and I wince slightly, imagining what he would do if I reached out and hugged him now.

Instead, I carefully finish my approach, sinking down on the bunk next to him, and I turn my head sideways to stare at his eyes…his melting eyes, and the tears glistening in their corners. "I thought…" he whispers, staring at me. "I was afraid you would run…"

I can't hold myself back-I reach out and grab one of his hands. He stiffens, and I can feel him jerk backwards-but then he relaxes, and lets me keep his hand…although I can feel his pulse thundering wildly in his fingertips. "I will not run from you," I whisper. "Ever, Nico. I swear. You've been here for me…you've been the only person here for me…and if I can ever pay that back…"

His eyes have fallen away from me again-almost instinctively, I reach up to grip his chin and pull his gaze back to me, a motion so familiar from my arguments with Annabeth that I almost expect to see her eyes looking back at me when I drag his face back.

"Thank you," I whisper, and he nods back at me, and I can sense something there, in our unspoken words…something fragile, something so, so desperately vulnerable…something new there, something that Nico was hiding and that I was too broken to find within myself…something like friendship.


	10. Chapter 10: Nico

I'm too afraid to breathe, terrified that if I stir the air around me even the slightest bit too much, all of this will shatter, whirling away to leave me with abruptly opened eyes and nothing but the shattered pieces of my fantasy-because this, this is far too fragile and perfect to be anything but a dream. Outside of my own head, Percy Jackson will never be this close. I will never feel his heartbeat pulsing slowly in his fingertips, resonating into my palms where his hand is folded so gently over mine. I will never stare into his eyes this levelly, noticing the way that they almost glow-that florescent green so intense, so solidly one color, that it seems seared into my irises. I will never count his eyelashes, the way I'm doing now-the eyelashes that are so short they almost disappear when you're not staring from this close. I will never see the one tiny freckle that is tucked under the perfect slant of the cheekbone on the left side of his face, or the mess of spikes and ruffles his hair erupts into around his ears as it grows out this messily. I will never feel one of his hands cupped around my chin, memorize the calluses on his palm where they press against my skin, and feel the desire in his grip, telling me that he _wants_ me this close to him, so close that if I leaned forward, barely even enough for me to notice that I'm moving-

 _I could kiss Percy Jackson._

The thought erupts like wildfire through my mind, and now I know that I am not dreaming-because if I were, I would do it, if I were dreaming, this terror wouldn't be lighting my blood alight-but the thought is no comfort, because I am panicking now, every muscle tightening, my lungs collapsing inwards, panic swallowing them and pulling them downwards into the pit of my stomach, and I can feel every inch-every millimeter-of his skin that is pressed against mine like a branding iron against my skin, painful, terrifying, far too desperately desired, and I cannot meet his eyes, because what will he see in mine? Electricity arcs and sputters down my skin, and my back crumples inwards involuntarily-I can feel my fingers trembling, and I stiffen, ready to pull back, to escape, to _run_ , because I cannot be this close, I cannot let anyone be this close, because what will they see, what will they say-and this is not just anyone. This is Percy Jackson, and this is the boy who let my sister die, and this is the boy that I thought I loved more than her for just long enough for her to die, and this is the boy who abandoned me again and again, and this is the boy who broke my heart, and this is the boy who is in love with someone else, and this is the boy who will never love me back-

 _And this is the boy who is here._

I don't know where the thought comes from-I don't know why it comes, after so long, after so much pain, but it is a different kind of pain, icy shock and terror so sharp I can taste clarity through it. _This is the boy who is here._ Who came to find me. Who looked for me when I disappeared. Who stands by me, and spars with me, and _needs_ me. This is the boy who has tried, in his own blind way, a million times, to help me. This is the boy who is here, right now, holding my hand and my chin, who is asking me with his eyes-his eyes that are so beautiful and so, so close-not to run. This is the boy who is here, right now, sitting next to me on my bed, telling me that he is here, and that he needs me. That he cares.

But everything is spinning around me, and the voices in my head are roaring with laughter- _I can still taste the words on my tongue, when I told him just how deeply I cared, and his skin is roaring against mine, and every inch of me wants to feel that roar, wants him wrapped around me, and I am terrified that I can want something this badly, and Bianca's face is burning behind my eyelids-teeth gritted, tears tracking down her cheeks, whispering a goodbye, the nightmare of her death that my father's legacy left me, and now Jason's voice whispers that Percy loved Annabeth, and that broke him-and Percy throws his arms around her and sweeps her off her feet, kisses her like nothing else matters-and now the goddess of misery is watching them in her shield, and she is laughing and laughing, and the entire pit is seething, swirling, its laugh echoing with her, knocking me to my knees, Tartarus triumphing, breaking me down and down and down-_

I yank my burning hand free of Percy's, tear my face aside-tears sear down my cheeks as I slam my eyes closed, jerking my face to the side, pulling free from his hand, and my back is trembling as it arches, and everything aches, my throat as raw as if I've been screaming, and I am so afraid, so afraid that it feels like I am falling to pieces right here and now, shattering into a million tiny pieces of nothingness on this bed-

And then I fall against him, my cheek pressed against the ridge of his shoulder, my tears slowly melting down the blue fabric of his shirt, my hands digging into his back, holding him to me, trembling against him, my heart racing so fast it almost feels like it's stopped beating-done running, done leaving, asking him to hold me, begging him to keep me here-

And his arms go around me. He turns, and his hands are warm and steady against my shoulders, but his voice trembles with tears as he breathes my name into my ear, and murmurs that it's going to be alright, and he holds me to him, so that I can hear his heartbeat rocket a million miles an hour, but his arms are firm, and he is steady enough that I can feel myself slowly, slowly calming against him, the trembling fading away into the calm that I have told myself so many times that I don't deserve. I breathe him in and feel him all around me, warm and solid, and comforting.

And here.

Percy Jackson is here.


End file.
